In Search of Two Characters
by Zeft
Summary: 2015. A biography written by Cho Chang about her, Roger and their interwined lives. Starts from Cho's first year at Hogwarts, cruising through the school years and into the highs and lows of adult life. chapter 2 up
1. Default Chapter

In Search of Two Characters - Prologue  
  
***  
  
At first it seemed strange that the public would want me to write a story about Roger. Me, of all people. After all, his wife is hardly someone to ask when you want an unbiased account of a man's life.  
  
However, looking back, it does seem to make sense. To tell the truth, I've always found reading autobiographies to be a lesson on how to spot a lie. Not to detract from some very good autobiographies written during our time, but it is unfortunately a fact of human nature that one cannot give a fair account of oneself. Thereby asking Roger to write about himself would have been a disaster.  
  
While I was in the process of writing this I was just amazed how much actual time that Roger and I have shared together. From the very first moment that I saw him on the Hogwarts Express, I can't remember a time when he wasn't a "somewhat" friend. People now would say that it was almost inevitable that we married and settled down. As it progressed the biography subtly changed from a story about Roger to a story about Roger and I, and how we came to be.  
  
It is the story of our lives.  
  
-Cho Chang  
  
*** Prologue: The First Meeting.  
  
September 1st, 1990 will remain in my memory for all the wrong reasons. I was eleven years old, tossed into the big bad world of school all by myself. Dad was busy and out of the country. Mum had very important (more important than me) guests staying over.  
  
Believe me, I love my parents, I really do. But on that day I resented their happy-go-lucky, everything-will-eventually-work-out attitude. What if I got lost? What if I missed the train? Granted, they had the sense to see me onto the platform, but as soon as I broke the barrier they Disapparated.  
  
It started to rain. I had no umbrella and I knew no magic. I hauled my trunk over to the very edge of the covered area. There was a thin sheet of water dripping down from the roof, creating an icy fence I dared not cross. I rocked backwards and forwards on my toes, silently cursing the fact that I was so small compared to everyone else. I wondered if the train would leave without me. Having no watch, I did not know what the time was.  
  
Suddenly the rain stopped. I dashed out towards the train, my trunk making an awful scrapping noise against the ground.  
  
Getting the trunk onto the train was a bit difficult. Even without trying I was smart enough to know that there was no way I could lift it. Laying it outside the door, I jumped onto the train and tried to pull one end up. It was one of those decorated Chinese trunks - the handles too small and the size too square. I was getting nowhere.  
  
"Let me help."  
  
A curly-haired boy of about fourteen leapt out of nowhere. He pushed me out of the way and lifted one end onto the train. However, it was still too awkward to pull up, despite him grabbing hold with both hands and falling down the effort. He took off his cap and wiped his brow.  
  
"If I go outside and push, we could get it in, but you'll have to pull."  
  
I nodded mutely. Were people always this abrupt? I held onto the handle resolutely as the boy stepped off the train. He bent down and grabbed the other handle.  
  
"When I count three, you have to pull, okay?"  
  
I nodded, more forcibly this time. I was determined to do a good job.  
  
"One, two, three!"  
  
It worked perfectly. He lifted the other end and when it was level I tugged with all my might and the trunk slid onto the train.  
  
"Thank you," I said shyly.  
  
"You'll be right now?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"No worries then." He tipped his cap at me, said, "Good day to you ma'am," and walked off.  
  
He left me feeling a bit dazed. I had met my first Hogwarts student. I had made a resolution last night to try and make as many friends as I could, not just in my own house but in other houses as well. My parents had urged me to enjoy my years at Hogwarts. Study hard, of course, but always study with someone. I wandered down the carriage looking for a compartment with some friendly looking people in it.  
  
At the end of the carriage I chanced upon a compartment with only one other person. A boy of about twelve years.  
  
"May I sit here?" I asked him, trying to stop the quavering in my voice. He was busy engrossed in a book. I learnt from my dad the one thing people hate most is being disturbed in the middle of a good book.  
  
He peered over the top of his book [18th Century Philosophy]; at once I saw that his eyes were a hazy blue-grey that didn't quite seem to focus on mine. He seemed to look at me yet not see me.  
  
"I guess."  
  
I took that as a yes.  
  
As soon as I was properly settled in I began to fidget. The boy wasn't very interesting, though out of default he was still the most interesting thing in the area, so I stared at him. He sat with one leg crossed over the other, face partially hidden by the book. I noticed that his eyes, so unfocused before, now were poring over the pages with a remarkable intensity.  
  
The silence would not do. I had to make conversation. It was in my psyche.  
  
"So, which house are you in?"  
  
He chose not to look at me, rather he just plucked at his robe. I saw the Ravenclaw crest, a bronze eagle. Like me, he was already wearing his Hogwarts robes.  
  
"Is Ravenclaw the best house?"  
  
"No."  
  
Perhaps he noticed that I was taken aback, because he actually looked at me when he tried to clarify his answer.  
  
"No, not really. All houses are fairly much equal."  
  
"But who wins then?"  
  
"Ah, you mean the House Championship." He paused for a moment. "Slytherin. All the time. But that does not make then the best."  
  
I was intrigued; if winning didn't make you the best, what did? It wasn't something that my eleven year-old brain could comprehend. My curiosity was awakened by this dark-haired boy, despite the fact that he seemed a natural conversation killer. It was with the stuff that he could have said but did not say that got me interested.  
  
I admit that it is fairly embarrassing when people ask what was the first thing that Roger ever said to me. It pains me that it was something as bland as "I guess". But in some ways "I guess" seems to some up all the different relationships that I've had with Roger. As 'somewhat' friends, as Captain and Seeker, as boyfriend/girlfriend.we've never had a plan for those things. They just seem to happen out of the blue, from one to the next.  
  
I do remember times when I used to be in despair of Roger and I actually having a normal conversation. Sure, we could talk for hours, on serious topics like Muggles and Muggle-borns, the state of the magical community, even the new stock at Flourish and Blotts'. but when it came to random chitchat we just couldn't cut it.  
  
It would turn into me saying such things like, "It's quite hot today". Roger would then either mumble indistinctly or say, "I guess". There are several dozens of times that has happened. It used to frustrate me to no end, but I stuck with it. And in the end, everything did work out, just like my parents used to say.  
  
***  
  
A/N: Still with me so far? I think it might be a bit confusing, so I'll just try to clarify. This is a recount written by Cho about Roger and her, and how they got together. By my guess it's going to be fairly long, but it'll always be in first person, with Cho narrating.  
  
So, any comments? On plot? Characterisation? Any comment you make will help get the next part out faster and make it better. (  
  
Zeft. 


	2. Settling In

In Search of Two Characters: Chapter 2 - Settling In  
  
A Roger/Cho fic by Zeft.  
  
*** Part 1: First days  
  
It took me several days to settle in, adjust myself to Hogwarts life, and more importantly, Ravenclaw life. I found my Ravenclaw housemates to be an eccentric bunch, so knowledgeable about absolutely everything, yet at the same time petty fights would ensure over who had booked the grand chess table.  
  
One of the first Ravenclaw people I spoke to asked if I had anything to contribute to the library. I was confused; there was nothing in the Hogwarts letter that said I had to donate a book to the library.  
  
"I didn't mean the school library," she said, slightly exasperated. "I meant the Ravenclaw library. Take a look."  
  
Taking my arm, she led further into the Common Room. Being L-shaped, there was an area which at first escaped my notice. I was amazed to discover that this area had two bookshelves that reached from the ceiling to the floor. The third wall was entirely glass, paneled with thin wood strips into nine segments. A large stained glass emblem adorned the middle section.  
  
I couldn't believe how light and casual this place felt, compared to the heaviness of the mahogany furniture in the other section of the Common room. There were no dark colours or hard edges here; only beanbags and mattress-like couches in shades of light blue, yellow and green. The whole thing reminded me of a meadow in springtime.  
  
I learnt that all the books in here were all donated by Ravenclaw students over the years, starting from Rowena Ravenclaw herself, who apparently donated her journal.  
  
"So where is Rowena's book?" I asked, imagining myself feeling a bit awed by the presence of such an important artifact.  
  
"Oh it's not here," the girl replied. "After she died the Wizard's Council confiscated it. It's hidden in the National Archives now, under about a dozen or so curses."  
  
"Why'd they take it?"  
  
The girl snorted. "Said it was too precious for us. And that we would have destroyed it." She rolled her eyes. "As if! Destroy our most revered heroine's personal diary?! Who did they think we were?! Gryffindors?!"  
  
Upon the end of her rant she seized my hand and dragged me towards the bookcase till my mouth was inches away from kissing 'The Art of War'.  
  
"See the shininess of the covers? The straightness of the spines? The crispness of the pages? Not a book ruined! Not like the texts in the school library, with dog-eared pages and notes in between. Once I even saw a smudge of jam. Jam! Can you believe it?"  
  
She then asked me again if I had anything to contribute, and failing that, would I like to 'borrow' a book. I declined meekly, daring not even to touch one, lest I accidentally leave a fingerprint. I felt a bit intimidated because I had nothing to add to the library, either.  
  
After a few weeks I learnt that the girl's name was Janine, and that she was a seventh year, and also a Prefect. Long ago, some innovative Ravenclaws came up with the idea of naming one of the Ravenclaw seventh year Prefects as the Keeper of the Books, thereby making it their responsibility that no one 'rips, tears, shreds, bends, folds, defaces, disfigures, smears, smudges, throws, drops or in any other manner damages, mistreats or shows lack of respect towards to the books'. Janine must have really taken that creed to heart.  
  
*** Dear Mum,  
  
Thanks for your care package. The cakes were lovely. We had a nice pig-out in the dorm. (Don't worry, we didn't eat too much). I'm fitting in just fine at Hogwarts. The classes are a lot more challenging than I expected, but that's fine because it keeps things interesting.  
  
Fitting in with the rest of the Ravenclaws is harder. Sometimes I feel like I should have been a Gryffindor, apparently I "speak before I think". Says Roger Davies (2nd year boy that always hogs the beanbag that I want.), but I don't care about him. I have made some nice friends, and I'm sure I'll be fine. No need to keep writing me letters of advice.  
  
Give Minou a kiss from me.  
  
Love, Cho.  
  
PS: I forgot to mention this earlier, but could you please pay a visit to Flourish and Blotts' next time you go shopping? There, could you pick me up the most interesting book you can find? Don't worry about the subject, any will do. Just make sure it looks interesting and is dust and fold-free. You can take the money out of my account if you like. Thanks and much love.  
  
***  
  
My letter was not entirely truthful. I lied about making nice friends.  
  
The girls (Melissa, Marietta, Sue) in my dorm were good people to talk to, but I wouldn't feel comfortable talking to them about anything that really mattered to me.  
  
And then Lydia came along.  
  
Lydia was something else. Despite coming along a few weeks later than anyone else, she immediately appealed to me. Maybe it was because she was so different to the other girls in the dorm or because she hadn't become part of a group yet, but I found myself with her constantly.  
  
On the outside, Lydia would seem like a shallow person. She talked endlessly, and by that I meant constantly. She had that effect on other people as well; once she stepped into a room it would suddenly become much noisier, even before she cared to say anything.  
  
Lydia was also remarkable straightforward about things. Some people would call that rude, but I appreciated her honesty. After a month of spending time with 'agreeable' people, I was ready for a change.  
  
"What's your greatest ambition, Cho?" she asked me one day. It was straight after dinner on a Friday evening. Usually Friday evenings were spent in the Common Room socialising, playing chess or watching an organized debate, but I was feeling a bit bloated after a large meal and had retired up to the dormitory. Lydia graciously decided to keep me company.  
  
"You'd give up making sarcastic remarks at the debaters?" I had asked her. She often enjoyed an evening making fun of Ravenclaw's brainiest - it them both sane, she said.  
  
"Oh.I need to refuel on my witty remarks." Lydia had shrugged. She had laid down on Melissa's bed while I had sprawled myself over mine.  
  
"I want to be an Auror." I said proudly.  
  
"You do!?" Lydia seemed absolutely horrified by the prospect. She sat bolt upright and looked at me with wide-eyes. "Tell me you're not serious."  
  
"What do you have against Aurors anyway?" I answered, feeling a litte defensive. I didn't like my dream being made fun of.  
  
"Look, I'm sure Aurors are very nice people and very noble as well, but it's dangerous, and are you sure it's the life you want to lead?"  
  
"I don't want a nine-to-five office job, if that's the alternative."  
  
"You don't have to. I'm sure being an Auror would be very exciting, but do you want the kind of life when people are always out to kill you? Is that excitement?"  
  
When she put it that way.no it didn't sound very appealing.  
  
"Well, seeing as you've dashed that to pieces.what job do you think would be right for me?"  
  
"Professional Quidditch Player." Lydia said, without batting an eyelid.  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
"You did say you wanted to make the Ravenclaw team next year."  
  
"That doesn't mean I want to play Quidditch for the rest of my life."  
  
Lydia wrinkled her nose. "Not for the rest of your life, silly, just for a couple of years. Then you can do something else, but not an Auror, okay?"  
  
"Why are you really against it?"  
  
"Look, my father was an Auror, and he got killed going on some stupid spying assignment. I don't want that to happen to you, okay?" she snapped.  
  
I was too meek to say anything. I always felt horrible after forcing people to reveal information they didn't want to tell me. Now I felt that somehow I had wronged Lydia and things would never be the same again. Thankfully, I was saved from an embarrassing silence by the last person I expected.  
  
"Is Cho Chang in here?" A voice came from outside our closed door. It sounded like a boy.  
  
"Er.yes, why?" I said cautiously. It sounded rather loud and ominous in the silence of the dormitory. We were on the top level of dormitories, too far away for any noise from the Common Room to penetrate.  
  
"There's an owl for you." Roger said, one hand still on the doorknob. He didn't look like he wanted to stay long.  
  
"Eh?" Why would the owl not come straight up to me?  
  
"An owl for you. Grey colour, small in size." He tapped his foot impatiently. "I'm not wrong in supposing you want to come see what it's got to say?"  
  
"I'll be back in a bit," I said to Lydia, cheeks colouring. Roger let me go through first, and then he closed the door behind him.  
  
It turned out to be Mother's return letter. I said thanks and tucked it into my robes. I wasn't going to read it in the Common Room, especially when there was a chance Roger could read over my shoulder. Well, actually he probably couldn't've, being just a tidge shorter than me, but I wasn't taking any chances.  
  
Mother had been kind enough to send the book I had requested as well. I shook open the wrapping paper to reveal "The Secret Meaning of Names".  
  
"You didn't expect it?" Roger said, looking at my blank face.  
  
"It's for the library." I told him. I looked around the Common Room for Janine. I wanted to give this to her as soon as possible, so I could 'clear' my name. Despite having no proof I was sure that she had a list of names somewhere, of people who haven't donated anything yet, and knowing Janine, I wanted my name to be off as soon as possible.  
  
"If you're looking for Janine, she's not here," said Roger frankly. "She left for the library an hour ago, which means that she won't be back till after ten.  
  
"But if you want, I'll give it to her." He held out his hand, which I regarded warily. He had a slight condescending look on his face, halfway between a smirk and grin. It wasn't something that inspired confidence.  
  
Lacking other options, I passed him the book reluctantly. He looked upon it as a treasure won.  
  
"Going to watch the trials?"  
  
I looked surprised. "Quidditch you mean?"  
  
"What else?"  
  
I ignored the jibe. "Yeah, I guess.are you.?"  
  
He raised his eyebrows. "Watching? No. Trying out? Yes."  
  
"Which position?" I asked. Quidditch was something I could safely talk about.  
  
"Chaser. Everything else is pretty much taken."  
  
"What about Seeker?"  
  
"You want that position?"  
  
I flushed, annoyed that my eagerness had come across so easily.  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
"Then come and check out the competition." He shrugged and walked away.  
  
**  
  
A/N: Constructive Criticism would be appreciated. Muchly.  
  
-Zeft 


End file.
